An Advancement of Learning
by finite
Summary: SLASH- mild m/m (Harry/Ron)


A/N: WARNING: This contains some SLASH material.  
  
Ha! Now that you have been warned, you can only blame yourself for getting offended.   
  
  
  
  
An Advancement of Learning  
  
  
I stand here,  
At his bedside,  
I see him in his sleep  
In depth I find simplicity,  
Simplicity is deep.  
  
I'm standing on   
The edge now.  
Pull back that veil.  
Bright lights are dizzying,  
Fade all into pale.  
  
Still- he is,  
Defined.  
A glowing beast?  
The dark is comfortable.  
At least.  
  
It cloaks him.  
Shapeless monster.  
Take lodgings in my head.  
My heart, my heart-  
In deepest bloody red.  
  
Alone here.  
These savage oats;  
They are ripe to reap.  
In depth I find simplicity,  
Simplicity is deep.  
  
  
  
I'm watching him. He doesn't know it though. He runs a fluid hand through messy hair. They are talking to him as if he is nothing unusual.  
  
  
  
Ron twisted his quill in his fingers. His head was propped up by his hands, and he was staring absently at his Charms homework. He glanced up at the sound of laughter coming from the far corner, near the great roaring fire. Harry was there, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He caught Ron's own eye.  
  
"Um Ron…I need to send snuffles a letter. Wanna come with me to the owlery?"   
  
"I haven't finished this yet." Ron said, indicating his unfinished scroll.  
  
"Oh come on…When have you ever cared?"  
  
"I care…"  
  
"You never used to be like this!"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like Hermione."  
  
"Just because I'm putting more effort into my studies!"  
  
"What happened to you Ron…You used to be so fun"  
  
Ron looked down. He could feel the beginnings of tears. 'You happened to me, Harry. But you can't help me. You can't even help yourself' He laid down his quill.   
  
Ron suddenly stood up.   
  
"Fine, I'll come with you…If that's what you want"  
  
Ron was afraid. Afraid of the feelings that were growing more intense whenever he was even in the same room as Harry.   
  
Was it hate? No. It couldn't be hate…Not Harry. He could never hate Harry.  
  
What was this thing that swelled in him. It rocked backwards and forwards, like aching waves, until it crashed suddenly, breaking on his heart…fragmenting.  
  
He shouldn't feel this way. It was a bad thing…the whole business could only be bad.  
  
He followed Harry out of the portrait hole, and they both walked rigidly and silently down the draughty corridor. The silence was awkward. Not like many of the silences they had shared before.   
  
Before what exactly?  
  
Ron risked another glance to find that Harry was looking right back at him.  
  
"What's wrong Ron? Why are we fighting all the time? What's changed?"  
  
"…"  
  
"Is it me?"  
  
"No…It's not you." Ron said stiffly.  
  
Harry looked dubious, but continued cautiously.   
  
"Is it …troubles of the heart?"  
  
"Yes" Ron blurted, before he could stop himself.  
  
"You can talk to me about it." Harry said eagerly.  
  
"No I can't"  
  
"Why?…If it's Cho…"  
  
"No Harry…Just drop it."  
  
Harry looked hurt.  
  
They reached the stone cold building and stepped inside to meet the chilly breeze, flowing from the hole in the ceiling. They could see the sky- the stars.  
  
They paused.  
  
"Well?…the letter." Ron said expectantly.  
  
"There is no letter. I just wanted some time to talk."  
  
"Harry! I was busy." Ron seated himself against a wall, and shivered involuntarily.  
  
Harry noticed immediately that he had not brought a cloak and before Ron could say anything, he sat down beside him, whilst sweeping his own cloak over the both of them.   
  
It was warmer. Not warmer…No. Ron felt fire. Was this what it was all about. This feeling; light-headed, ecstasy? He breathed in the deep scent of Harry, and automatically snuggled up closer to the source of heat- of this feeling.  
  
It couldn't be wrong- it felt so natural.   
  
They sat there quietly for a while. Each fearing to break this silence. It was a silence that they both missed. It was comfortable- comforting.  
  
Ron slowly lowered his head onto Harry's shoulder.   
  
"I'm sorry Harry…"  
  
"Shhhhhh. It doesn't matter now."  
  
Ron felt the light brush of a kiss, on his forehead. He closed his eyes.  
  
Peace- just the fluttering and hooting of owls above.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
"mmmm?" Ron murmured   
  
"Who was it?"  
  
"Who was what?"   
  
"Who has stolen your heart?"  
  
"Nobody" Ron sighed sleepily  
  
"Am I that nobody?" Harry said suddenly but softly.  
  
Ron stiffened. Harry could feel the change. And he knew. They both knew.  
  
"Harry…"  
  
But before Ron could finish, he felt the tingling pang of a soft butterfly kiss, as Harry's lips met his own.   
  
They melted together.   
  
Together. There was no room for doubt- this was right.  
  
  
  
  
A/N: The title is from a poem by Seamus Heaney, where a boy learns to overcome his fear.   
  
Hope it was Ok.   
  
  
  



End file.
